WEE SMALL HOURS
by jasmine105
Summary: Horatio Caine struggles with his thoughts in the late night hours concerning the woman he may have let get away.  This is my first attempt at fiction - I hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**WEE SMALL HOURS**

_In the wee small hours of the morning_

_While the whole wide world is fast asleep_

_You lie awake and think about the girl_

_And never ever think of counting sheep_

_When your lonely heart has learned its lesson_

_You'd be hers if only she would call_

_In the wee small hours of the morning_

_That's the time you miss her most of all_

_Frank Sinatra song_

**Chapter One**

Horatio glanced again at the glowing red numbers on his alarm clock: three twenty a.m., barely fifteen minutes later than when he'd previously looked at the time. Resignedly, Horatio sat up in bed and rubbed his temples. Obviously he was not going to get any sleep for awhile so he may as well get up. Flicking on the light on the nightstand next to his bed, his eyes fell upon his cell phone and he picked it up, looking for messages. Looking for messages? he thought wryly. More accurately, hoping for a message... a certain message. Although why he thought she would leave him a text message was beyond logical thought since he was the one who walked away. Ran away, if he was truthful with himself.

With a sigh, Horatio arose from the bed and grabbed the bottled water sitting on the nightstand. He walked through the living room and out onto his back deck, hoping the gentle roar of the ocean waves hitting the beach a short distance from his house would soothe him. Uncapping the bottle, he took a deep drink of the water and looked up at the stars winking in the inky darkness above. Gazing at the stars, listening to the waves slapping the wet sand in the deep early morning hours, he felt as if he was the loneliest man in the world.

Horatio sighed again, this time with irritation. Well, he thought, if you are lonely, who is to blame for that, Horatio Caine? Who skittered away like a frightened rabbit when a chance for happiness suddenly appeared right in front of you? But that thought was then almost immediately replaced with the old familiar feelings of sadness and guilt about his late wife's death, and the fear that a new relationship might lead to more of the same. Horatio could never quite work these thoughts out logically in his mind. When he tried to do so, the intensity of his feelings clouded his ability to move past the barriers of culpability and despair, and left him feeling worse than before. How many times had his good friend, Alexx, sought to convince him to talk to someone about his unresolved feelings for Marisol? Although he tried to hide his unhappiness and fill his daytime hours with work, she saw the price he paid for this lack of resolution in his life, and he realized she worried about him. But he just couldn't do it. He didn't want to speak to anyone about Marisol, and he certainly didn't want anyone digging around in his mind, dredging up feelings and memories best forgotten. No, he didn't want to speak to a therapist.

Horatio glanced again at the cell phone he had carried outside with him: still no message. Not that he expected one. The ball was in his court, and he knew that.

Taking another drink from his bottled water, Horatio allowed his troubled thoughts to drift back to several months ago and his meeting with Lauren Chambers. He had been forced to attend a dinner held in conjunction with the Mayor's office, the Miami Youth Athletics Council and the MDPD to benefit troubled youth in the area. While Horatio was sympathetic toward the aims of the Council, he hated political events - nor did he particularly like the Mayor, who he felt was an opportunistic and charming charlatan. But Horatio's chief had made it clear that his very visible lieutenant was to make an appearance at the dinner, tacitly making it obvious by his presence that the MDPD supported both the Council and the Mayor in developing an athletics program to provide a more wholesome outlet for the unrestrained energy of the young boys and girls in parts of Miami. So very reluctantly and with much inward cursing, Horatio had donned suit and tie, showed up at the dinner for the least required amount of time, listened to the self-serving remarks of the Mayor, and was getting ready to make his escape when his eyes chanced upon the direct gaze of another pair of eyes - those of the lovely Lauren.

And lovely she was that night, recalled Horatio, with her long and wavy pale blond hair and her lithe figure dressed in a shimmering sky blue dress. But it was her eyes that particularly drew Horatio's attention - beautiful light gray eyes with just a bit of black edging the irises, and crinkled near the outer corners with some inner amusement that was both compassionate and engaging. Those eyes and what seemed to be hiding in their depths are what drew Horatio in and held him captive. She had been standing with the Mayor as Horatio had approached him to say goodnight and put an end to his tortured evening. Who is she? he had wondered. He recalled the Mayor's wife and knew that she was not THAT lady - and hopefully, she was not one of the Mayor's reputed OTHER ladies.

"Well... Lt. Caine, I am very pleased you were able to attend the benefit this evening. I can only guess what threats Chief Delgado had to make to get you here," said the Mayor silkily, only half kidding and with some condescension.

Horatio allowed the tone of the remark to pass without comment, and instead let his attention rest on the lovely woman next to the Mayor. "Lauren, this is Lt. Caine - one of Miami's finest. Lieutenant, this is Lauren Chambers. Ms. Chambers is starting work with my office this week - she is replacing Joe Armstrong."

The rest of the Mayor's words went past Horatio as he realized the young woman was the Mayor's new press secretary. The Mayor drifted away to speak with others, and Horatio found himself alone with Lauren. She gazed at him with friendly interest.

"Lieutenant, it is a pleasure to meet you - I suspect our jobs will occasionally put us in contact."

Horatio liked her smile and the warmth behind it immediately. "Ms. Chambers, I'll look forward to it. Um... would you like something to drink? A glass of wine, perhaps?"

She leaned in to him, conspiratorially, and whispered, "Ah, but Lieutenant, I thought you were in the process of making good your getaway as quickly as possible?"

"Was I as obvious as that?" he asked.

She flashed her knock-out smile at Horatio and replied, "Lieutenant, the only thing missing was your grabbing a megaphone and yelling, _'Clear the aisle, clear the aisle! Bored Law Enforcement Officer coming through! Make way_!"

Horatio grinned at the mental picture this conveyed - and so it began.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Horatio smiled as he remembered that first meeting, and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

Yes, that is how it began... a postponed departure from a boring political / community event, a shared glass or two of wine with a warm, amusing companion, and before he knew it, Horatio was asking her out for lunch. Lunch dates turned into dinner dates, and later, late night meetings and lingering talks over brandy at his favorite wood paneled bar in a quiet, elegant hotel in Miami.

He liked Lauren's wit, her easy conversation, and her self-assured manner. He learned many things about Lauren during those warm, quiet conversations when they were seated in a private area of the Gatsby Lounge, the warm glow of the muted lighting burnishing the paneled wood, and making him feel that they were the only two people in the world. He discovered that Lauren was a bit older than he originally thought (and which gave him a little more comfort since he was concerned about there being a wide disparity in their ages); she was 36, and while she was still quite a bit younger than he, she was no babe in the woods. Thank God!

He also learned that in addition to their mutual penchant for long, quiet conversations over brandy, they also shared a love of old Humphrey Bogart movies and listening to Frank Sinatra sing about "the girl who got away." In a very real sense, they were both throwbacks to an earlier, more romantic era, and in many ways, Lauren suited him extremely well. Often, after an evening with her, he went home smiling and temporarily at peace with himself and his world. She was an excellent friend. Initially, he did not allow himself to think beyond that point.

Where he and Lauren differed was her love of politics. Horatio was certainly not a political animal. Truth be told, he had little respect for politicians and what he considered their nefarious and bureaucratic ways, and even less patience for politics, which too often interfered with the functioning of his own lab and his job in general. Lauren, on the other hand, grew up in a blue collar neighborhood in Baltimore, and her family were longtime Democrats who had always been heavily involved in local politics. From a young age she, too, was involved, often helping hand out political flyers with her grandfather, a member of both the community Democrat Club and American Legion. One evening she showed Horatio an old photograph of she and her Grandpa, "Big Billy" Chambers. The portly old man was wearing a straw hat with a red, white and blue band, and nine year old Lauren, sporting both freckles and two long blond pig-tails, had a big red, white and blue badge pinned to her tee-shirt, with a local politico's name on it. Lauren had smilingly told him that every 4th of July, she and her grandpa and dad would march in the community parade, handing out flyers and tossing hard candies wrapped in cellophane with politicians' names imprinted on them into the crowd. "So, you see, Horatio, politics is in my blood - three generations!"

Horatio smiled. He didn't share her enthusiasm for the political process, but he enjoyed the animation that claimed her voice and the light that danced in her eyes when she spoke of her belief in the great things that could be accomplished to make a better world for all people, and how it had to start in the community, in local politics. Her admiration for people like her grandfather and her father and the difference that ordinary people like them could make in their communities was almost infectious. And it cheered Horatio to listen to her, especially when she told him proudly of the work her grandfather and dad had done to get a blighted, former industrial area in Baltimore cleaned up, and turned into an athletic center for kids in the surrounding neighborhood.

Horatio had trouble reconciling the earnest and enthusiastic goals Lauren held with her willingness to work for Miami's current Mayor. One night, over dinner, he worked up the courage to ask her about this. She took it with good grace and smilingly said, "Sometimes, Horatio, you do what you have to do in light of the choices before you."

Horatio shook his head. "Lauren, the Mayor is a cowardly, bureaucratic bully who relishes yielding power over those under him and pontificating for the cameras and crowds. His only interest is in furthering his own ambition for higher office. He doesn't give a damn about this city."

"Why, Horatio! You really must stop sugar-coating your feelings and say what you really mean," Lauren said, with mock severity.

Horatio looked at her with wide eyes, and then ducked his head and smiled as he realized she was laughing at him. "I was out of line, Lauren. He is your boss. I'm sorry."

Lauren smiled and softly said, "Well, Horatio, if you can't be honest about your feelings with your girl friend, then who can you be honest with?"

Horatio froze when she said the words "girl friend," and quickly glanced at her, and then, just as quickly, glanced away.

Suddenly, Horatio was inordinately interested in the label on the wine bottle on the table, in the alcohol content listed, and the surgeon general's warning about pregnancy and drinking. He also found himself looking at the salt shaker near him and contemplating how many grains of salt it contained. In fact, he was interested in looking at anything at that moment... except Lauren's eyes.

Girl friend? Girl friend? All the lunches, dinners, late night meetings at Gatsby's... Girl friend? Yes, I guess that is what she is, thought Horatio, in confusion. Why did the words bother him so much?

"Earth to Horatio! Earth to Horatio! Come in, please!" Lauren said kindly. Horatio reluctantly met her eyes, and saw they were full of sympathy. "Dear Horatio! Please don't look so stricken! I didn't mean to press you. Perhaps I have misread our friendship."

"No!" Horatio replied rapidly, struggling to master his feelings and think coherently. "I do care for you, Lauren... it is just... Sweetheart," Horatio said earnestly, "it is hard for me to put this into words. I guess I never labeled our relationship. It is... jarring to hear the words. It's difficult to explain." He smiled sadly and looked away again. "I'm not certain I can explain it to myself."

Lauren gently took his hand and silently willed him to look at her. "My sweet Horatio! I am not forcing you to make any sort of commitment, my dear. But I am a person who believes in honesty. And I also believe in going after what is important to me. And you are so important to me! There are so many things about you that touch me and make me want to know you better. I care for you, Horatio. On a deeper level than just friends. Is there any chance that you feel the same?"

Horatio saw the tenderness lurking behind her misty gray eyes, and he knew he was fortunate to have such a caring and empathetic woman interested in him. Even more so, he knew their friendship had indeed moved to a different level. Perhaps he would take a chance. It was not disloyal to Marisol to enjoy spending time with a "girl friend." It was not as if he was about to marry her. Marisol was still his heart and soul. Even so, Horatio knew he wasn't thinking clearly about his feelings. But he was so very tired of thinking! He was human, and he wanted friendship, and a warm body beside him at night. For once, he didn't want to go home to a lonely house. And he didn't want to wake up in the middle of the night to an empty space beside him.

Ignoring his conflicting emotions, Horatio took the slim hand holding his own and raised it to his lips. Tilting his head to the side, and gazing at her with soulful eyes, Horatio gently said, "Hey, girl friend, what do you think about continuing this conversation tonight at home - my home?"

"Would that invitation also include breakfast in the morning, Lieutenant Caine?"

"Yes ma'am, indeed it would."

_To be continued_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

It was just the beginning of many breakfasts, reflected Horatio, that occurred over the next eight weeks. Lauren came home with him that evening and it was the beginning of something awfully good. The sweetness and the passion they shared that night and on subsequent nights began to slowly mend a gaping hole in Horatio's lonely soul. Always a light sleeper, Horatio had of late been given to waking up in the middle of the night with an anxious start, adrenaline pumping through his veins and making him queasy and unable to get back to sleep for several hours. When Lauren was there sleeping beside him, it seemed to hold some of his inner demons at bay. He liked waking up to her warm softness next to him, or a silky thigh draped over his own. He liked smelling the scent of her light perfume, and feeling her soft long hair against his neck or cheek. When he woke to these sensations, he was comforted and would fall back to sleep easily, Lauren being none the wiser.

Their weekends began to take on a pleasant sameness for Horatio. After a hectic and often emotionally wrenching week at work, it was both soothing and exciting to have Lauren in his home, sometimes greeting him with a chaste kiss that perversely made him want to grab the nape of her neck and roughly demand an answering passion from her lips - or, sometimes, finding the wholesome Ms. Chambers fixing him dinner while attired in some frothy, lacy concoction that made him forget about dinner and think about... dessert.

Some of the best times though were the quiet, rainy afternoons when he would pop a DVD into the player, and wrap her in his arms, and they would watch Bogie and Bacall doing their thing in Key Largo. Good times; quiet, comfortable times. On evenings he brought home files from work to study, he'd look across the room and see her curled up on his sofa, reading a book, while the soft light from the reading lamp teased the thick pale blond waves that had escaped the loose bun at the back of her neck. For some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, the sight of Lauren this way touched him deeply. And on those occasions when she caught a certain look in his eyes as he gazed at her, she would put her book aside, smile at him, and hold out her arms, palms up - and he would go to her and that would be the end of his files for the evening.

An ease began to invade Horatio as he spent more and more time with Lauren. It took over his smile, his voice, his gait. He began to seem comfortable in his own skin again. The always perceptive Alexx noticed this new lightness in her friend and suspected its source might be female. But as her ever private friend said nothing to her about any special lady, she kept her own counsel and just offered up a silent prayer of thanks that her friend was beginning to seem grounded once more - for Alexx had been deeply worried about Horatio for some time.

Yes, Horatio remembered, the times shared with Lauren had been good. And when he was with her, he could turn off the regrets and guilt that continued to plague him when she wasn't there. When he was alone, he worried that he was finding it increasingly hard to keep his old friends – his "boundaries" - in place. Lauren had a way of blurring the lines and moving past his boundaries. And when he had time to reflect on that, it bothered him. He liked being in control; he liked things neat and orderly. A child born into chaos and violence, even as a young boy he sought to place what controls he could over his own environment. It was for him the only way to remain sane. Without his boundaries, he felt vulnerable. He felt fearful. And he felt guilty.

But without words, she gently laughed at his boundaries, and sweetly and gently slipped past them - and got Horatio to open up a bit. And so he began to tell her things. He told her bits and pieces about his troubled childhood without going into the violence of it. He told her about his brother and how he'd felt responsible for the bad decisions Raymond had made. He told her of the son he didn't know about until he was almost a grown man and his worry that something would happen to the boy while he was deployed in Afghanistan. He told her about his team, and of his pride in them. And he told her how lovely she was, and how he enjoyed being with her and talking with her and touching her. He told her more than he had ever thought to share with her. But there was one thing he never told her. One thing he couldn't tell her.

He never told her he loved her.

And so, that last night when Lauren lay in his arms after sharing an especially tender, passionate interlude, and said from her heart, "I love you, Horatio," he froze and said nothing. He kissed her forehead, and said nothing.

Which said everything to Lauren, and none of it good.

_To be continued._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"I love you, Horatio."

Sitting out in the darkness, alone, remembering those words and his reaction to them - that hurt. Horatio looked at his cell phone again; no message. Annoyed with his illogical and ambivalent desires, Horatio chastised himself. And what if there was a message from her, he thought. What would you do, you coward! Ignore it?

Unbidden, again his thoughts returned to Lauren, and her sweet declaration. How his silence had hurt her! Although he couldn't read her eyes in the darkness of that night, he could sense the hurt radiating from her as he kissed her goodnight, murmured some safe endearment and turned on his side to feign sleep. Horatio wasn't a cruel man or a player - and he knew his actions were hurting the sweet, vulnerable woman next to him. But he couldn't help himself. He felt boxed in, panic-stricken. He wasn't ready for this.

The next morning, Horatio was making coffee when Lauren, freshly showered and dressed, came out of the bedroom. With a forced attempt at naturalness, Horatio said, "Hey, sweetheart! Would you like some coffee?"

Lauren took the proffered cup, sipping the hot liquid, and finally met Horatio's eyes and held them. Uncertain what to say, neither of them spoke for a moment. Finally, Lauren put the cup down and walked over to Horatio and buried her head against his chest. Slowly, awkwardly, Horatio encircled her with his arms and said raggedly, "I am so sorry, Lauren!"

Trying very hard not to cry, she nodded her head in assent. Finally she mastered the lump in her throat and began speaking. "Horatio, why did you turn away last night when I said I loved you? Surely, you can't be surprised. If not love, what have these past few months been about? Am I just someone to have around for convenience? Is that what you are trying to tell me? Horatio, you have my heart!"

Feeling both stricken and torn, Horatio led her to a chair, sat her down, and knelt before her. "Lauren, sweetheart, I never meant to hurt you this way. I care very much for you –"

"But you don't love me," she interrupted sadly.

He took her cold hand in his, and looked at her in hurt confusion. "Lauren, it is not that black and white. ...it's difficult... to explain... to understand. There are... circumstances... involved that you don't understand."

"Then make me understand!"

Horatio let go of her hand, stood up and walked over to the French doors in the living room and gazed sightlessly at the beginning day. How do I make her understand what I can't understand myself? He leaned his forehead against the early morning coolness of one of the glass panes, hoping it would buy him a minute and help clear his thoughts. Finally, he turned and saw Lauren standing in the living room, waiting for some sort of response from him. With a bone weary tiredness he began the story that never seemed to let him go.

"You know that I was married?"

She nodded yes. She had heard the whispered stories of the beautiful Marisol Delko and her short, tragic marriage to Horatio.

"How much do you know?"

Trying to put into order the many stories she'd heard, Lauren began: "I know she was the sister of a member of your team, that she'd been ill but had recovered, that you'd married after a whirlwind courtship, and that she died shortly afterward, the victim of an accident.

"But, Horatio, that was several years ago. What does that have to do with today, and you and I?"

Horatio smiled sadly. "Nothing... and everything."

"I don't understand."

"Mari was so sick when we first met. But you did not realize it when you were with her. She was so beautiful - and so strong. She had the heart of a lion! She was determined that her illness was not going to prevent her from living life fully. She was tired of having sickness define her life. And she was tired of fighting those who loved her who also saw her life and her dreams bound by the parameters of her disease." Horatio paused, thinking aloud. "I think one of the things Marisol loved about me was that I had the courage to love her and allow her to dream and attempt the things her family wanted to restrain her from. They were worried about her, wanted to keep her physically strong enough to battle the cancer. I think they were concerned that our relationship would distract her from doing what was necessary to combat the disease.

"She loved me. And she wanted to marry and begin a family. Most people want these things and so easily accomplish them, but for Marisol, because of the doctors' projections regarding the course of her disease, marriage and family seemed an impossible dream. But I loved her... and I wanted to give her that possibility, in spite of the disapproval of her family. Together, we decided that we would do what we wanted, what was important to us, and let the world sort it out. And when Mari went into a remission from her illness, she made the decision to stop chemotherapy so that we could begin the business of starting a family. She was so happy... with her illness in remission, beginning a married life together, possibly a baby... well... I think we began to think we'd outfoxed fate."

Horatio shook his head and smiled sadly. "But you can't cheat fate, Lauren."

She looked at him questioningly. He shrugged his shoulders, and turned away from her, once more looking out the paned glass. "Marisol was fatally shot by a man who had a grudge against me. I knew I was a target and anyone close to me, but I thought I could keep her safe."

Horatio laughed bitterly. "All that fighting she had done to get well.. all her dreams... her hopes... it all came to nothing in the end. It wasn't the cancer that killed Mari! It was me. It was loving me. Damn it!" he said angrily.

He sensed Lauren's approach before he felt her slender hand touch his shoulder, yet still he stiffened. "Oh my love! I am so sorry for you... and for your Marisol. It is a terrible story and such a tragic situation to have lived through. But Horatio, I don't understand how this is your fault."

Horatio whipped around and looked at her. "Haven't you listened to one word I've said," he returned fiercely.

Bravely, Lauren refused to step back. "I've listened to every word you've said, Horatio, and my heart breaks for you and for your misplaced guilt. The philosophers say that possibilities have unintended consequences. It is a rule of the universe. Are you immune to the workings of the universe?" She smiled at him kindly. "And what does this have to do with us? I don't need you to 'keep me safe' - what I need is for you to love me. Tell me from your heart, dear - do you love me, even a little?"

Horatio looked at her, standing resolutely before him, with her beautiful gray eyes shining with compassion and love. Part of him wanted to reach out to her blindly, and desperately hold her close to him and - for the love of God! - stop the endless thinking. But the other part of him, that guilt-ridden young boy, who always felt responsible and who had to stay in control, wouldn't let go. He thought of Marisol, of all the chances for happiness she should have had, maybe would have had if not for him - and he couldn't let go.

"Lauren, you are a warm and wonderful woman, and I care for you... but my heart is still with Marisol."

The words hurt Lauren, and she quickly looked down so that Horatio could not see the threatening tears. Dully she replied, "But she's dead, Horatio."

"Not to me, Lauren... not to me."

Horatio turned and resumed looking out the paned glass, not seeing anything. It was several seconds later that he heard the front door open... and gently close.

_To be continued._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

And so, here he was. Missing her, remembering her, and feeling sorry for himself.

Horatio glanced at the time on his cell phone - only 4 a.m. It felt to him as if he'd been sitting out in the darkness all night, not just 45 minutes. God, he hated the night time hours! Heavily, he rose from his chair and walked back into the house, hoping he might be able to wrest a few hours of sleep from the possessive night. Looking one last time for messages, and finding none, Horatio placed the phone on his nightstand and lay down. As he closed his eyes, he bitterly laughed at himself. Why do you think she is going to reach out to you? After everything you said... after everything you didn't say?

Because, came the plaintive thought... because she loves me and because I need her.

I need her! In that moment, Horatio was strongly tempted to pick up the phone and text Lauren - I need you! I'm sorry. Please help me. Help me fix this.

But thoughts of what had occurred between them, how he treated her, his irresolution about his past, stifled the urge, and the exhausted Horatio slowly drifted... finally... to sleep.

The warm early morning sunshine stole into Horatio's bedroom, and made its way gently and inexorably across his face. Slowly, he opened his eyes. He took a quick look at the clock on the nightstand and saw it was 7 a.m. He was groggy and not quite ready to face the morning in spite of the sun's promise of a beautiful day. He was about to turn over and bury his head under his pillow when he caught the familiar scent of coffee brewing.

Coffee? Horatio sat up with a jolt. Lauren! She must have come in while he was sleeping! Feeling like a school boy reprieved for misbehavior, Horatio joyfully bounded out of bed – and, refusing to over analyze the situation, went looking for her in the kitchen. Horatio, he thought, for once don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Go and tell her you've been an idiot!

He walked into the kitchen and saw his coffee already poured into a mug and the steaming brew drew him like a magnet. The sweet female form was inside the walk-in pantry and all Horatio could see of her was a slim hand holding onto the side of the pantry door, and he heard her humming cheerfully. "Sweetheart, you're here," he began happily.

"Of course, I am," the voice within the pantry said, "and trying to figure out what to make for breakfast. Do you have anything special in mind?" With that, she stepped out of the pantry and smiled at Horatio.

Horatio's heart momentarily stopped. Standing in front of him was Marisol!

He blinked his eyes rapidly and felt the renewed pounding of his heart, and gasped, "Marisol!" Feeling faint, Horatio sat down hard, not taking his eyes off his wife. "How can this be? Am I going insane? Am I dreaming? ...have ...have I ...died?"

Marisol smiled kindly at him. "None of the above, babe. You are not crazy, you are not dreaming and you are very much alive. Now, what would you like to eat? How about my Eggs Cubano - you always liked them, and I think you have all the ingredients here."

Horatio mutely stared at her, and then looked at the floor. Shaken, he whispered to himself, "I must be going insane." He looked up again, and his wife was still there, looking at him with compassion. "How can this be? How can you be here?"

"Why are you so surprised, Horatio? I am ALWAYS here. Isn't that so? From the time you get up in the morning until you fall into bed at night, who do you think about? Me. I am even here when you are with your friends - even in your intimate moments with others. You never let me go and so I am always with you."

"Not like this, Mari - never like this!"

Smiling at him, she replied, "Stop over analyzing things. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

Horatio's eyes narrowed. "Why did you say that? I was thinking that very same thing a few minutes ago."

"Of course you were. And that is how I knew to say it."

Horatio didn't know what to think about that. Marisol walked over and sat beside him. Horatio saw that she was beautiful and warm blooded; she was his beautiful bride. She sweetly reached out her hand to caress his cheek, and, as she did so, she said, "Hey, babe - it's okay. It's really okay." With that, something that had been locked in ice within Horatio suddenly broke free, and he embraced Marisol, and said her name several times, his voice breaking.

When he mastered himself again, he said, "I thought you were gone."

"But you saw me again... remember?"

Suddenly, Horatio did remember the episode he had tried so hard to bury. "Yes, I remember. You told me to go back." He sighed. "It was the last thing I wanted to do at that moment."

"But you did it."

"Because you made me."

"No, that isn't true. You always had the choice; you made the correct one. You are still part of the living, Horatio. You knew that on a deeper level. You still know it."

"Then why do I so often feel like one of the walking dead?"

Marisol hesitated, looking at him with sadness. "Horatio, why won't you let me go?"

"I can't, Mari. I try, but I can't. I miss you! And I keep going back to the way you died, wondering what I might have done differently, hating myself for taking away your chances for a good life. And it is eating me up. You tried so hard to get well and in the end it meant nothing."

"But that's not true, honey," she said tenderly. "You gave me love and hope and... wonderful possibilities! What was it that your friend said? 'All possibilities have unintended consequences.' There was no way you could have predicted what was going to happen to me. It was just one of a million possibilities. And how can you prevent what you can't predict?

"The day I died, do you remember what I said?"

Thickly, Horatio replied, " 'Don't be sad.' "

"Then why won't you let yourself be happy? Do you think it makes me happy to see the man I love cripple himself with self-recrimination and despair? To throw away future happiness because he is too frightened, to cautious, to take a chance? When I met you, Horatio, I saw my chance for happiness - and I took it. Against my family's advice. And I was willing to chance my remission by trying to conceive your child. To really live is to take chances. You used to know that. You have to live again, honey."

"Marisol, you don't understand... how hard it is. "

"But I do. Horatio, don't you understand? I'm not really here, honey. Your Marisol no longer exists. I am really your heart and mind speaking to you, clothed in Marisol's form. Deep within yourself, you know it is time to let her go, Horatio - and the self blame and the despair. It is time to rejoin the living. You know that.

"Honor her by being happy. You have the chance for happiness. Give yourself the permission to take it."

Marisol smiled at him, looked at his now cold coffee and picked up the mug. "I think it is time to get you a fresh cup." With that, Marisol turned her back and walked away.

Horatio awoke with a start. He was in darkness. Quickly sitting up, he reached for his cell phone. The time reflected was 5:30 a.m.

Was it all a crazy dream, he wondered? It had seemed so real - the warmth of the sun, the scent of the coffee, the steam from the hot liquid... and most of all, the warm touch of Mari's hand against his cheek.

Struggling to remember exactly what she had said to him, he drew a blank. And yet... somehow... he felt comforted. Renewed. Why? Was it because his mind was finally in sync with what his heart wanted? Horatio wasn't sure why he felt more hopeful, but he did. It was as though the burden that he'd carried these last years had in some way shifted... and the weight of it within him had moved to a place a little easier to bear.

The words, "You have the chance for happiness. Give yourself the permission to take it," rose unbidden in his mind. Did he have the courage? Could he allow himself to love again?

Suddenly, Horatio knew what he had to do. What his heart and mind had wanted him to do all along, if only he had listened. And he realized this was not the end of his journey, but the beginning... and that the journey would probably involve both laughter and tears. Isn't that what living is? Laughter and tears?

Horatio held his cell phone in his hands for a moment, uncertain what to type... but then he decided to put down what was in his heart: Sweetheart, please forgive me. I have been wrong. Please call me! I need you... I love you."

He hit the "send" button, and then wandered into his kitchen, turned on the light, and began to make coffee. And, at last, in the semi-darkness of his living room, he began to wait for daylight - and, hopefully, her call.

_When your lonely heart has learned its lesson  
>You'd be hers if only she would call<br>In the wee small hours of the morning  
>That's the time you miss her most of all<em>

THE END

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this story, and an especial thank you to those who took a moment to either comment or "follow" it. It was both appreciated and encouraging to a new writer!<strong>

**In a few days, a new story will be posted that is a re-telling of the story from Lauren's point of view. If you enjoyed this story, I hope you will look for the next one, which is called "YOU GO TO MY HEAD." Thanks again!**


End file.
